


Striders Being Striders

by PageofD



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bro doesn't see the point in clothes, Bro is Bro, Gen, empty threats, just brothers, not stridercest, slightly awkward coming out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PageofD/pseuds/PageofD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The TV stops working so Dave goes to Bro for help. </p><p>Essentially, just a little drabble I wrote.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Striders Being Striders

“Bro!” You yell, hammering on his door. After a few minutes of silence you mutter to yourself “fucking hell.” You pound on his door again, yelling. “Bro! Get your lazy ass out here!” after that he finally deigns to give you a response.

“What do you want from me?” He groans, probably still in bed.

“The TV won’t turn on and the Xbox over heated again.” You call through the door.

“Again? Fuckin’ hell.” The springs on his bed creak as he gets up and shuffles to the door. He opens it and winces as the brighter light from the hall enters his cave of a room. He’s not wearing his shades, which is normally surprising, but then again he’s not wearing anything.

“God damnit Bro! Put some clothes on!” you turn away, not needing to see any of that shit this early.

“What’s the point? ‘M just gon go back to bed when ‘m done.” He shrugs, walking down the hall to the lounge room and crouching down in front of the TV, placing a hand on top of the Xbox. “Sit this in front a the air con for a bit. I’ll clean the dust outta it later.” You go in and unhook it while Bro goes ‘round to look at the wires behind the TV.

You spend a few minutes finding the spot where the Xbox will get the most air before sitting it down and turning back to Bro, just as he swears at something.

“What is it?”

“The fuckin’ mice’ve chewed through part a the power cord.” He stands up, running a hand through his hair.

“Can you fix it?” you ask ~~anxiously.~~ If the TV was out of order you’d spend the whole day bored out of your mind.

“Heh, yeh. Some ‘lectrical tap should fix it but we’ll have to get rid a the mice sometime.” He walks out from behind the TV and you turn away as he passes on his way to his workroom, returning a moment later with a nearly-used roll of blue tape. He steps back behind the TV and begins humming the MLP theme song while he works. You snicker.

“You really wanna laugh at the guy fixin’ the TV?” he sticks his head out to look at you with a raised eyebrow.  When you take too long to respond he continues. “How’d you like me to turn on the parental lock feature? I could set it so you can only watch lesbian porn 24/7.” You shudder and hurry to assure him that you weren’t laughing at him and he retreats back behind the TV scoffing “I knew it.”

It’s not that you don’t like chicks – they’re great and really soft to lean on – but you don’t like them in the ‘I want to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk’ way and watching chicks being put into those circumstances and being filmed just so some guy half-way across the world can jack off to it makes you uncomfortable.

“…what did you know?” his head comes out again, his amber eyes seeking yours behind your shades.

“I knew you were gay.” You freeze for a moment. You could have sworn you told him last month. You remember the ~~anxiety~~ stress leading up to it, but now you realise you don’t actually recall doing it.

“Yeah, and?” you shrug, figuring it doesn’t matter if you told him or not. He knows now and that’s what matters. “You’re not exactly the straightest ruler in the stationary store.”

You hear him chuckle “Touché.”  After another moment of fiddling with the cords he straightens, thankfully still covered by the TV, and stretches his arms above him. “Try it now.” You jump the futon and grab the remote, hitting the power button to successfully turn the TV on.

“Thanks Bro.” you give him one of your rare smiles, though it quickly turns into a grimace as he steps away from the TV to clean out the Xbox. “Dude, seriously, at least put some boxers on.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Madame.” He mocks. “Would you prefer the smuppet or Lil’ Cal print ones?” You stare at him, open-mouthed.

“You have Lil’ Cal print boxers?”

“Yup. Made ‘em myself. I’ll show ‘em to ya.” He walks back to his room to get them.

“Put them on first, for fucks sake!” You call to his retreating back and he laughs.


End file.
